


The Art of Winning

by siennna



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, F/M, Work In Progress, eventual Dramione, sixth year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-01
Updated: 2014-07-01
Packaged: 2018-02-06 23:58:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1877343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siennna/pseuds/siennna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After six months of sharing dorms with her infuriating fellow Head, Draco Malfoy, Hermione has just about had it with his arrogance and pride. Likewise, Draco has to fight the daily urge to rip his hair out every time she opens her irritating, know-it-all mouth. With tensions running high, the two finally decide to engage in a competition that will determine who is superior once and for all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Winning

**Prologue: A Deal is Struck**

* * *

 

Wintertime at Hogwarts was truly a sight to behold. The ancient castle, already the epitome of beauty even without winter's decorations, became a landscape of pure white and shimmering crystal. Ironically, the only word Hermione could use to describe the sight was _magical._ Unlike her peers, she chose to drink in the wonderland and relish its serenity, rather than throw balls of snow or skate across the ice.

Such a preference afforded her several possible seats across the deserted courtyard, as everyone else was busily engaged in a school-wide snowball fight.

All, except for one blonde-headed Slytherin, though his absence in the game didn't surprise her. After spending the past few months with the ferret in their dreadfully compact dorms (Oh the woes of being head girl with a pest) she'd come to learn many things about the supposed "Prince of Slytherin". One of those 'things' being his terrible allergy to _fun._ Or, as he put it, _"idiotic means of amusement"_. She had known before this year that he didn't care for common festivities or prolonged social gatherings, but she'd never truly realized the lengths he was willing to go just to avoid them. Such desperate measures apparently involved seeking her company, because nothing else could have driven him to approach her; something he was currently doing right that second, self-assured smirk still in place. He noticed that he'd caught her eye and took the opportunity to wave in mock-enthusiasm.

She readjusted her brightly striped scarf and scoured the snow-blanketed grounds for the perfect reading spot, making a point of not looking in the direction of her fellow head. In spring, she preferred the cool shade beneath the trees and in summer, sitting by the crystal-clear lake with her feet ankle-deep in the water was just perfect. As for winter, she loved sitting by the fire, but it was a much too beautiful day to be trapped inside.

Just as she'd decided that the benches seemed like a fine spot, she felt, rather than saw, him join her. Perhaps it was the cologne he practically bathed in that announced his presence, though it could have also been the general feeling of dread that seemed to always precede his arrival.

"Fancy seeing you, Granger! And here I thought you, Potty, and Weaselbreath were attached at the hip," He smirked and flicked the long ends of his silver-and-green scarf in her direction, "What keeps you from joining them in their simple-minded festivities? One would think you would leap at the opportunity to pelt my Slytherins with snow."

She rolled her eyes and began her walk towards the bench, completely unsurprised when he sidled up beside her and waited for an answer. "If you must know, Malfoy," She began primly, "I'd much rather spend the day reading and enjoying this wonderful view." She stopped walking and gestured to the shimmering white landscape before them, eyes shining. "In my opinion, _this_ is far more gratifying than besting your housemates; something I can easily do any day."

Typically, he would've instantly launched into an argument defending his Slytherins, but today, for some reason, he merely rolled his eyes.

"Crabbe and Goyle, yes, I'll give you that much. But Blaise is too clever, Theo is too intelligent—yes don't look at me like that, there _are_ people in this school that are as smart, if not smarter than you—and Pansy is catty enough to claw out every last strand of your bushy hair should you ever try anything on her." He chuckled and shook his head. "And as for me? Well, face it, Granger; you couldn't beat me at anything," he paused in mock-consideration, "anything, except perhaps reciting "Hogwarts: a History" word for word, that is."

She stopped in her tracks at his challenging words. Hermione knew he was just pushing her buttons for the sake of irritating her, but there was something so bloody _infuriating_ about being talked down to. She couldn't beat him at anything, eh?

She slowly turned to face him, brow raised audaciously. "Is that a bet, Malfoy?"

He scoffed and shook his head, confident smirk firmly in place. "No, Granger, it's a _promise."_

A quick pulse of fiery anger shot through her veins and she narrowed her eyes. "You've always been very good at talking about yourself, Malfoy, but do you ever actually live up to it?" she stepped closer, her movements slow and precise, "Because right now, all I hear is a conceited little ferret saying things it really shouldn't."

He too walked towards her, brow raised in amusement. "And all _I_ hear is a short, bushy-haired _hypocrite,"_ He chuckled and let his gaze lazily fall onto her fuming expression. "You say I'm all talk, but you give me empty threats every single day. How about this; if you're up to it, we'll settle this like a wizard and witch should."

She rolled her eyes. Of course a boy would resort to fighting. "A duel?" She asked flatly.

He scoffed and shook his head, 'No, of course not. That would be far too easy and hardly prove anything," A conspiratorial smile curled his lips. "No, see, what I had in mind is a lot more interesting," He raised a brow and waited for her to signal him to continue.

"Go on!" She said at last in exasperation.

"I believe you're aware of a little room within Hogwarts that has the ability to fulfill whatever its visitor requires?"

Her irritation quickly drained away, along with any pretense of color on her already-pale face, as he spoke of _the_ room with such flippancy. "H-how do you even know about that?" She sputtered.

"That's my business now isn't it?"

His expression darkened only for a moment, before his typical, casual arrogance returned. "But anyway, that is where our challenges shall transpire. As the room will have whatever materials we need in abundance, there's no need to prolong my victory over you with planning."

She scoffed. Did that slimy ferret honestly believe he could beat her? In truth, she wasn't even sure what exactly they would be doing within the mysterious walls of the room, but whatever it was, Hermione knew she could beat him at it. "Fine, and what exactly will the test that determines _my_ superiority be?"

"I believe I will not indulge any more details until you agree to my terms for this, shall we call it, _competition."_

She rolled her eyes. Why on earth the prat needed everything to be so drawn out and dramatic was beyond her. "And those terms are?"

"Term number one; what happens in the room _does not leave the room_. Term number two; the challenges and trials within the room will be played honorably, as in no cheating," he mockingly wagged his finger at her. "And lastly, the loser has to do whatever the winner says for…" He paused and smirked. "For the rest of the year."

At that moment, Hermione's internal battle began. Her logical side firmly told her to walk away from the situation entirely, perhaps after giving the git a nice kick in the shin. However, the much louder part of her shouted to _make the prat eat his words._ And usually, Hermione made it a habit to listen to her more reasonable inner voice, but right at that moment with Malfoy's pinched, pale face painted every shade of smug, and the winter-chill inspiring a certain reckless adrenaline within her, logic seemed to be the last thing on her mind. Without another thought, she stepped forward and took his hand into a rough shake.

" _Deal."_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, since I'm already putting most of my time into another in progress story, this one won't be updated regularly for a while. However, once the first and second chapter are up you can expect regular updates. Future chapters will be around 5-7k words.
> 
> Follow to stay updated on the progress of this story! 
> 
> And don't forget to comment, feedback is crucial. :)
> 
> Thanks, loves. Until next time! X0X0


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